by C C Sommerly
“Have a look around. If you don’t see anything you like, I can customize any arrangement.”
“Thank you.”
Rows of flowers were displayed in planters, pots and vases. It was more like a wild and untamed garden than a shop. If I’d had the time, I’d love checking everything out. There were quite a few flowers that I didn’t recognize.
Another customer was shopping, but he and I were the only ones here besides the nymph.
I waited to purchase my flowers until I saw the person leave Mr. Smith’s house. I had her ring up a bouquet of lilies, daffodils, and larkspur along with greenery. The lilies were my favorites. I hurried outside and caught up with the man just down the street from Mr. Smith’s house.
“Hey there.”
The man kept walking with his paper bag in hand.
“You dropped something from your bag.”
He promptly stopped walking and turned around, looking back at the direction he’d come from, while still doing his best to ignore me.
I dropped my flowers. Hopefully they survive my harsh treatment of them. Then, I quickly grabbed his arm and whipped my dagger out. His eyes went wide and he fixated on the dagger. Smart man, always watch the weapon. You want to know where it is at all times.
“I just want to talk.”
“Why are you doing this? I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said.
“I didn’t say that you did.”
“You’re pointing a dagger at me. Are you robbing me?”
“Do I look like a thief?”
“You look like you have little qualms about holding people at knife point, so why wouldn’t you also be a thief?”
I pulled out my badge. He studied it for at least a minute.
“So you aren’t an enforcer? You can’t make me do anything as a PI.”
“Legally you are correct, but if I could be a thief, then I may also be a murderer. Never can be too careful these days. Even the nicest and most benevolence little old lady could be a murderess in disguise. And, consider kelpies and how innocent they appear.”
He was completely white by the time I finished talking.
“Please don’t kill me.”
I rolled my eyes and reached into my pocket. I pulled out money and noticed a wet spot on his pants. I wasn’t that scary.
“I’ll pay you for your time.”
“Just let me go. What do you want?”
“What is in that bag and how well do you know Mr. Smith?”
“That’s what this is about? I get my potions from him. His are the only ones that help me relax. I have an important job as a Lead Technologist at Magitech, which is stressful. These potions help me relax and sleep better.”
“Show me.”
With a trembling hand, he pulled out a bottle. It was clearly marked as “relaxing elixir.”
“Now that wasn’t so hard. I appreciate it.”
I offered him the money. He glanced at it briefly before taking a step back and running for it. You can’t even give money away these days.
It was a short walk back to Mr. Smith’s house. I knocked hard on Mr. Smith’s slightly pealing washed out blue door. A man that could only be Mr. Smith answered the door. The most noticeable aspect of him was the severe facial scarring. Just seeing the melted appearance of his face was painful. The injuries were severe and couldn’t be denied. Although middle-aged, he was mostly bald and was hunched over.
When he saw me, his eyes opened in surprise. He tried to slam the door in my face, but I managed to get my foot in between it and the door frame. That would leave a mark. My foot was throbbing.
“I just met your client and I’d like to see about getting what he got.”
“Don’t know what you are talking about. And who are you anyways?”
“A potential customer.”
“I’m afraid I’m not taking any new ones.”
“Come on now, you obviously can’t work in your condition. Are you really going to turn down the money? I’m good for it, if that’s what you are worried about.”
“I’m calling the enforcers.”
“No you’re not. And, if you don’t want the Rare Herbs and Medicinals Company to know about your little side business, then I’d recommend letting me in, so we can chat.”
When he looked like he’d refuse, I pressed him. “And, the investigation into your injury case will probably be thrown out if I tell your employers that you aren’t disabled and have been working from home just fine.”
He opened up the door and I walked in. It wasn’t like anything I expected. From the outside, it had looked like any of the houses on the street, plain in its normalcy. But, the inside was chaos and beyond a doubt nothing like those other residences. It wasn’t a house; it was a mad scientist’s lab.
There were herbs and other ingredients for spell making on a long counter, which dominated the open space. Smoking and steaming beakers were suspended above flames. A cauldron bubbled away next to the fireplace. Caustic fumes filled the air, tickling my nose and burning my eyes.
Gone was the comfort you’d expect to find in a living room. There was no couch to relax in, no table to eat a meal at, and an absence of any typical living room fixtures. The entire room was stripped bare with the exception of the spell and potion making materials.
“Please don’t turn me in,” said Mr. Smith. “I have a customer coming and you must be gone before then.”
His face was pinched with either worry, but more likely fear. Why was he scared? Was it fear over this customer’s visit or was the idea of the customer finding me here alarming?
“Okay, so you have an illegal side business and need me gone. Well, start talking. If I think you’re holding out on me, I’ll go straight to the enforcers and your employer.”
“I had no choice. They don’t pay me enough to live comfortably. If I didn’t sell my potions and spells, then I’d starve.”
Now we were getting somewhere. And selling spells and potions wasn’t quite illegal, but that all depended on what he was selling. Poisons, potions to influence a person or take control of them were illegal, but defensive spells like stun spells and healing spells were perfectly acceptable.
I walked along the counter, taking in what he had. The herbs and ingredients could tell you a lot about the spells and potions being created. I still remembered the different materials needed for spell and potion making – thanks to my father drilling them into me as a child. He forced me to memorize the ingredients. I’d have to recite the spell making on command. And, if I got one wrong, I’d be whipped.
“I see echinacea, ginseng, and feverfew. You must be making healing tonics. And you seem to have what you need for a number of potions to treat physical ailments.”
He seemed surprised at my knowledge. It put him even more wary and on edge. Good, he needed to be scared of me, so I could intimidate him into giving me the information I needed.
“I don’t suppose you need me to explain what you see here.”
“Oh, but I do. Assume I know nothing. And, I’ll know if you lie about what you are making.”
“I only make and sell legal potions and spells. And, I didn’t take anything from work. I use my own equipment and ingredients – all things I bought myself for my own use.”
“Glad to see morals still prevail. And, can you tell me what spells? I’d prefer a list, if you have one?”
“Very well. I only make certain ones, so I can mass produce them. Having a variety gets to be too much to manage.”
He walked over to the kitchen and opened a drawer, extracting a list. His movements were unhindered by his hunched back, so the only disability I could determine was a cosmetic one from his facial burns. His claims that he couldn’t work weren’t valid. And, seeing how he managed to do the same kind of work at home as what he was expected to do for his employer meant his disability case was invalid
“Here you go.”
I scanned the list and he was correct. These were all pretty standard spells.
Healing draughts, stun spells, smoke spells, heating spells, and others. I can think of a time or two where I’d have liked having one of the heating spells. The only unfamiliar item on the list were the calming potions. They were rated by mild, semi-strong, and strong.
“What are these calming potions and relaxing elixirs?”
“Ah, that is one of my best sellers,” he said. His face flushed with excitement and pride filled his voice.
“They are both my own creations. I use valerian, chamomile, and passion flower for the calming potion and Chinese fairy vine, cowslip, lemon balm, and elderflower for the relaxing elixir.”
“Elderflower, you say? I haven’t heard of it being used in that type of spell.”
“It’s added for flavor and gives the potion a pop. I only make premier potions, elixirs, and spells.”
He was the first person that I knew who bothered to add flavoring to improve the taste of a smell.
“Would you like to see it? I have a potion being prepared. Come, I’ll show you.”
I neared the table and he threw his arm out, stopping me.
“Protection. Please, use these goggles and do not touch anything.”
I quickly complied with his request and kept a reasonable distance from the counter. Everything was in clear glass vials, beakers and other containers, so I could see everything well.
“The greenish substance bubbling is the lemon balm. It’s the main ingredient in the relaxing potion.”
“Where do you find your passion flowers?”
“I cannot share my sources.”
I was willing to let that go. He was a fraud and lying to his employer, but based on what he said and showed me, he wasn’t breaking any laws.
13
I’d spent too long dealing with the Mr. Smith case and was going to be late meeting Lochlan. Being late was sloppy and rude. Not that I wanted to impress the fae, but I at least wanted a shower since I still reeked of the perfume from the brothel. And, a more appropriate outfit. Although, why I worried about changing baffled me.
I pulled up right behind Lochlan, who was casually leaning against his car. He wore black slacks and had a long-sleeve dress shirt on that had the first few buttons undone – showcasing his tanned and toned chest. It was an entirely too sexy look for an already drool-worthy man.
My shirt was soiled and smelled like the potions, elixirs, and spells Mr. Smith brewed. I also caught a whiff of sweat and body odor. Not my finest moment.
Despite my appearance, Lochlan’s face lit up and he grinned when he saw me.
I held out my bouquet.
“Flowers?” he asked.
“Do you want them or not?”
“What happened to this not being a date?”
“It’s still not a date.”
“The man is supposed to bring the flowers.”
“Well, I don’t see any flowers in your hand.”
“This isn’t a date.”
“Fine, I’m starved, can we go eat?”
“I won’t have it said that I don’t know how to treat a lady, shall we?”
He opened the passenger side door for me. I thrust the bouquet at him. “Take these.”
He took them and we were off.
The flowers rested between us, but it was a poor barrier. I felt hyper aware of Lochlan. He even smelled good. It was a musky and woodsy scent. He glanced over me a few times before he finally said something.
“Do I want to know why you smell as if you’ve been mixing magics all day?”
“Well, about that … I was working a case.”
“I thought we were working together.”
“This is one of my other cases. And, just because we’re partners on this case, you don’t get to deal with any of my other ones.”
“Fair enough. There’s no need to be testy. When did you last eat?”
“Are you implying that I’m grumpy and need to eat?”
“I didn’t say it, you did.”
“I didn’t eat all day.”
“We will remedy that. You’re going to love this place.”
“Did you have a chance to talk with your enforcer buddy?”
“Right to the point. We can go over that at dinner.”
“You look nice.”
I snorted. That was a bold-faced lie. I was a mess.
“We can stop the small talk seeing how you’re reduced to talking about how I look. Is the weather next? Magical news and updates? Maybe sports?”
Lochlan’s only response was a sigh.
I noticed that we were heading into Downtown.
“I thought we were going to the best Mexican in town. Why are we going to Downtown?”
“I never took you to be an elitist. This is the best place in town. Trust me, you’ll see.”
“Are you saying that I’m a snob? I can handle Downtown just fine.”
“Whatever you say. Just keep an open mind.”
The buildings in this part of town were the kind of gritty that bordered on dingy. Street people loitered about in dirty and ragged clothes. Factory workers, drunks, and street people walked down the broken and cracked sidewalk.
We turned into a parking garage that was nearly full. I scanned the area, but still couldn’t see any entrances to a restaurant. Lochlan better not be messing with me since I’d been giving him such a hard time. I didn’t take him for the vengeful sort, but what I’d seen over the years is that evil lurked without many pretty packages.
He opened my door and offered his arm. I ignored it and started walking.
“Wouldn’t you like to know where we’re going?”
“Why yes I would. By all means, lead the way.”
He took the lead walking in front of me close enough that if he stopped suddenly, I’d run into his backside. Although, his wide shoulders and muscular back were clear to see through the tightness of his shirt.
“Like what you see?”
“Of course, I’ve had a fetish for parked cars. How did you know?”
“Okay, if that’s how you want to play it, Marty. Yes, the cars are nice.”
We made our way to a metal stair case and a woman was waiting at it. She was grubby and unkept. Strands of graying hair had fallen out of the clip and flopped loosely. I couldn’t tell her age, but she was hunched over like the elderly sometimes get. She held her ragged shirt together to keep her skinny body covered.
“Lochlan Grand, it’s so nice to see you.”
“Hello Treasa. Were you waiting for me?”
Alarm and then fear crossed her face.
“It’s just good timing,” she said in a quivering voice.
“Or, that fact that I’m here at least weekly. It’s okay. I’m not upset.”
Treasa laughed. What Lochlan said seemed to reassure her.
“You got me there. Alise is doing great. I cannot thank you enough for returning her to us.”
“I’m happy to hear that and no thanks are needed.”
Treasa pulled out something wrapped in a dirty, old newspaper and held it out to Lochlan.
“I made this for you as a thank you gift.”
“I told you no gifts or money was needed.”
“But it is. No one would search for Alise. Not the enforcers or anyone else. They don’t care about us Downtownies.”
“Not everyone feels that way. I’m just glad you came to me.”
He reached out for the wrapped item. He carefully peeled the newspaper away and revealed a river rock that had been painted with a colorful mandala pattern.
“This is very good work. Did you make this.”
Treasa beamed with pride.
“I did.”
“You should sell these. You have true talent. Have you considered going into business?”
“No businesses will let me put my mandalas in their shops to sell. I’ve been trying for years. This is why I work at the Iron Mountain Mine.”
Iron Mountain Mine was a coal mine on the edge of Downtown in an area called the Dark Countr
y. Everything had a dusting of coal and heavy soot from burning the material and explained the woman’s appearance. Most people bought heating spells or had electricity. Some of the poorer areas didn’t have the same luxury. Coal was a source of burning material for people who couldn’t afford a heating spell.
Hearing that she worked there, surprised me. Mostly men worked the mines, but while a woman working there wasn’t unheard of, it was unusual. It was backbreaking work that killed people decades before their time. It was hard work for little pay, but one of the few places people without magic or social status could find a job.
“Come see me at the office tomorrow, we’ll see what I can do about that.”
The woman hugged Lochlan and placed a kissed on his cheek.
“May the Great One bless you. I won’t keep you and your lady friend any longer.”
She locked eyes with me.
“This one’s a keeper. There aren’t many out there like him.”
And with that, she walked away.
“So, shall we continue?” asked Lochlan.
“You aren’t going to say anything about that?”
“There’s nothing to say. I helped Treasa find her missing daughter. The poor girl was kidnapped by a slaver.”
“Those are a nasty bunch and very hard to find. You are lucky that you found her in time.” I paused before asking “You take pro bono cases?”
“Occasionally. It’s not right that only people who can afford our services get to use them. I work those cases off the company dime. As long as it doesn’t impact my caseload, they overlook it.”
Lochlan was a bit of a softie and had a big heart. That just made him more attractive. He actually cared about people – even people like Downtownies.
We followed the stairs down. The further we went, the sounds of music filtered up to me. Then, the scents of grilled meat and spices hit me and made my mouth water and my stomach rumble.
Lochlan stopped at a red door and knocked. A waitress in brightly patterned dress answered it.
“Welcome to La Cocina. Dinner for two?”
“Yes, we’ll take a table near the back.”
“Anything for you Mr. Lochlan.”
